The reflections of Heep

are perhaps as follows...

Or perhaps they went differently,

but one must bear in mind,

that the dead have no voice,

and thus when judged by the living,

they are done a great injustice.

So perhaps it would do us good,

to reflect on the story of the silver wolf

in the mirror of the dead...

Their words were fire.

The silver wolf jumped and soared,

But I, the forgotten one, stumbled.

Their laws were a river.

The silver wolf found a way to shore.

But I, the forgotten one, drowned.

Their blows were pitfalls.

The silver wolf rose above them,

But I, the forgotten one, tripped and fell.

Their abuse was a stain.

The silver wolf washed it from his fur,

But I, the forgotten one, was forever marked.

Their lives were opportunities.

The silver wolf found his false justice,

But I, the humbled one, saw and took one for myself.

Their punishments were unfair.

The silver wolf accepted it blindly.

But I, the vengeful one, vowed an ascent.

Their deaths were a gift.

The silver wolf grieved like a fool,

But I, the victorious one, claimed what was mine.

Their memory was a curse.

The silver wolf fought for a useless cause,

But I, the bloodied one, took what I deserved.

Their sins were shadows.

The silver wolf has found safety in the light,

But I, the humbled one, have suffered in darkness.

They gave us nothing.

The silver wolf gnawed his story in bone,

But I, the feared one, wrote mine in blood.

And now it will never be forgotten.